


More Alike Than We Thought

by Helloiamsilver



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF
Genre: French Characters, M/M, Musicians, Orgy, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-02
Updated: 2011-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:59:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helloiamsilver/pseuds/Helloiamsilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam Lambert and his band have agreed to do a benefit show with the popular new band the Fondled Tunics. Pining and shenanigans ensue at their first meeting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is It So Obvious or So Wrong?

**Author's Note:**

> So a friend and I've been writing an original story based on our band in Rockband and I just realized how oddly similar the lead singer and the guitarist are to Adam and Tommy. Completely accidental. So I figured fanfic involving all of them was necessary!   
> The basic set-up for my band is as such: their name is Fondled Tunics, Eli Blatherwick is the lead singer, he has black and blue hair and is gay (ikr? Maybe my subconscious made him like Adam..?) Girard Chanteau is the guitarist and is French. The drummer and bassist are Gordy and Max respectively (Max goes by Maddog). So...that's that. I hope you enjoy! :)

So, it was finally the day before their practice and Eli was excited out his mind as he waited in the hotel bar for Adam and crew to arrive. He had kinda sorta had an enormous crush on Adam Lambert for years and now he was actually getting a chance to perform a joint concert with him and his band. It was almost enough to distract him from the cold ache he could feel residing in his chest most of the time these days.  
Whatever, he would not let that rain on his parade today. This was Adam Lambert! He was the most amazing singer Eli had ever had the pleasure of listening to and Eli had been compared to him more times than he thought he deserved. Intimidation and adoration battled for dominance when the man finally appeared. He was tall and beautiful and his warm smile brightened the room, clearing any discomfort that may have existed. Eli found his own smile growing in return. He was so fixated on Adam that he didn't notice the person approaching him until he felt a long arm drape itself around his neck.  
Aaand the ache was back. He knew it couldn't stay away for long as he looked over to his smiling band mate, Girard Chanteau. The tall, skinny French boy with his half red, half black spiky hair and his cocky smirk and his beautiful clear blue eyes... God, the damn boy had no idea what he did to Eli. He knew couldn't blame him for it. He determinedly focused his attention back on Adam.  
Adam fucking Lambert. He felt a goofy grin start to spread on his face and brushed a dark chunk of hair out of the way so at least one eye could see. To be honest, Eli wasn't really sure how he would function if he could see out of both eyes. The black bangs were kind of attached to his inner being. But he still wanted to be able to see Adam Lambert in all his glory. And glory, he did have. He walked with a confident strut that despite its power had no arrogance and god, what a beautiful face. Eli found himself dropping his gaze again, with fear that he would look like a gaping fool if he kept staring. But Adam came right up to him and wrapped his arms around him in a hug which Eli took a stunned half second to return.  
“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I just love your voice! I’m a huge fan,” Adam pulled away and grinned.  
“You’re a huge fan of ME?” Eli laughed, incredulous, “Dude, your voice… It isn’t even possible to describe! And you can hug me any time you want…” Eli winked and it was Adam’s turn to laugh.  
“I’ll take you up on that,” He grinned and went up to the bar.  
Eli smiled back and looked around at the rest of Adam’s “glamily” and how they intermingled with the rest of the Fondled Tunics. He giggled when he saw Adam’s drummer-Isaac, his brain supplied- staring up at the massive, mohawked form that was Maddog. He was just lucky that the rest of the band had managed to wrestle him into a shirt. If Maddog had his way, he would let that bare, muscled chest be free 24/7.  
Not that Eli minded all that much. Maddog was as straight as they come, but what could he say? He had a nice chest. Not exactly Eli’s type though.  
No, Eli’s type was more like Adam’s: slender and pretty.  
And guitar-playing.  
And French if you REALLY want to get specific.  
Eli turned to look at Adam’s slender and pretty bassist, Tommy as he talked to Girard about god knows what over some beers. Those fans who were both glamberts and Tunic-lovers often claimed Girard and Tommy looked the same. Eli wouldn’t exactly say they looked the SAME, but he could definitely see the similarities. Mostly that whole slender and pretty thing. And the pout, both of them had beautiful pouts. The major difference between them was Girard’s height. He was about six foot to Tommy’s 5’7 which oddly enough, made Girard look even smaller as he was still so slim. Girard definitely rocked the heroin chic. Without the actual heroin.  
As far as Eli knew.  
He shook that thought from his head and scanned back to where Monte was chilling in a booth with Gordy, the Tunic’s bassist and Hank, the Tunic’s bus driver/back-up guitarist/part-time keyboardist/… no one was really sure how many /’s. Eli laughed to himself as he watched Monte attempt to bring Gordy into the conversation Unsuccessfully.  
Gordy didn’t talk much.  
Eli was so absorbed in himself and his observations that he jumped about ten feet in the air when Adam came up behind him.  
“Being a little emo over here aren’t you?”  
“Gah! I mean uh…Yeah, a little I guess? Been a little emo a lot lately,” Eli shrugged, sheepish.  
“Mind telling me why that is?” Adam asked with a raised eyebrow.  
“Uuhh,” Eli’s eyes just slid over to where Girard and Tommy were laughing hysterically. Adam pursed his lips into a wry smile.  
“Thought so. Just for the record, you don’t have a very good poker face,” Eli sighed.  
“You caught me unaware,” Adam slunk down into the red leather booth and patted the seat next to him.  
“Why don’t we have a little chat? Singer to singer,” Eli smirked and took the offered seat.  
“What would you like to chat about?” Eli asked as he sat back and steepled his fingers on the table.  
“Oh, your unfortunately obvious infatuation with your sexy French bandmate maybe…” Adam said offhandedly.  
“If it’s so obvious, what do you need to know?” Eli grew defensive. Adam put his hands up in a “calm down” gesture.  
“Easy, I just wanted to say…I feel for you. And it can’t be that obvious all the time if he hasn’t figured it out yet,” Adam paused, “He HASN’T figured it out yet has he?” Eli shook his head.  
“Not quite the infatuation part,” Adam looked over at Girard and Tommy pensively.  
“I know what it’s like,” Adam looked back to Eli with a smirk, “To want something you can’t have. You do get over it, you know. He’s straight; nothing you can do about that,” Adam sounded confident, like he’d convinced himself of this many times before  
“See, that’s the thing…” Adam tilted his head in question, “I don’t think he’s completely straight…”  
“Wait, hold up,” Adam put up a finger, “That changes the scenario. He’s not completely straight?” His eyebrows shot up his forehead.  
“Yeah, uh…” Eli wasn’t one hundred percent sure how to explain, “I mean, I’ve seen him all up on guys before in bars and clubs and stuff but that’s just Girard, he’s a little affectionate,”  
“Three beer queer?” Adam asked wryly.  
“Well, it’s rare to get him with less than three beers in him at any given time… but anyway and well, we, uh, we,”  
“’We…’?? Come on get to the juicy details here!” Adam demanded. Eli ducked his head.  
“We might’ve fooled around a little. A few times,” Eli bit his lip as he remembered. Closing curtains around their own private booth. The feeling of Girard’s mouth soft and pliant. When he looked up Adam’s eyes were wide.  
“Wait, so you’ve fooled around before, you’re totally in love with him-don’t deny it!- and he STILL has no clue? How oblivious can he be!?” Eli laughed a little.  
“Well, we were both really drunk and-”  
“So you’re saying he doesn’t remember?” Adam asked, incredulous.  
“No, he remembers but it’s not really his thing. He doesn’t,” Eli sighed, trying to figure out how to say it, “He does the groupie thing. He doesn’t put any meaning or emotion into hook-ups. They’re always just hook-ups to him,”  
“Are you saying you never just hook-up?”  
“No, I do. But there’s a difference between hooking up with someone you’ve never met and are going to leave the next day and someone who you’re close to and care about,” Eli looked down from Adam’s eyes as his voice got quieter.  
“I see. To him it was just another hook-up and to you, it was something more,”  
“Yeah,”  
“Well, no offense, but he sounds like a class-A douche bag if you ask me…”  
“He’s not!” Eli leaped to his defense. “He’s hilarious and affectionate and loyal and…he can be so sweet sometimes. Without even knowing it. He does all these little things,”  
“Like what?”  
“He calls me Eels,” Eli smiled broadly and he stared down at the table, “And tries to teach me French. And whenever I feel depressed he brings me Oreos and Twizzlers and we watch A Hard Day’s Night,”  
“The Beatles movie?” Adam asked, grinning. Eli nodded enthusiastically.  
“I love it. Girard’s the only one who’ll always watch it with me,” Adam laughed.  
“I’m like that with Velvet Goldmine. No one will bother to watch it with me any more,” He chuckled some more.  
“Hmm, I’ve never seen it,” Adam’s jaw dropped and he spluttered.  
“You’ve never seen Velvet Goldmine!? Oh come on! That’s insane!” Eli cracked up at Adam’s indignant response.  
“Well, I’m not really into the glam rock thing all that much. No offense! I love you! It’s just not my style,” Eli shrugged but Adam still looked huffy.  
“Well then. I’ve never seen A Hard Day’s Night so we’ll just have to get together and have a movie night won’t we?” Eli smiled.  
“That we shall my friend,”  
“You know, as much as people say we’re alike, we’re really not aren’t we?” Adam pondered aloud. Eli nodded in agreement.  
“Yeah! Like I said, I’ve never really been ‘glam’. I could never wear as much glitter as you do,” Adam wrinkled up his nose in unreasonably adorable way.  
“And I wouldn’t be caught dead in those shoes,” Eli looked down at his trusty checkered Vans. Yeah, Adam would probably prefer Girard’s shiny leather boots that for the life of him, Eli would NEVER understand how he walked in.  
“I never did theater either. Not really an actor type. I wear my eyeliner with pride but full on dressing up? Not my thing,” Adam nodded in understanding.  
“So what did you do in high school? Besides sing?” Eli laughed as he thought of it.  
“I was on the wrestling team,” Adam’s “what the fuck” face brought out another bark of laughter from Eli.  
“Seriously?” Adam asked.  
“Oh, it was for one reason really,” Eli waggled his eyebrows. Adam cracked up at that.  
“SERIOUSLY!? You did wrestling for THAT reason!?”  
“What can I say? I was a horny gay teenager with the chance to roll around with some sweaty muscular boys in spandex. Who was I to say no?” Adam just continued laughing, drawing Eli with him until they were rolling into each other in the booth. They were finally able to compose themselves after a few weird looks from their respective bandmates.  
“Ok, Eli. I can guarantee you I would NOT have done wrestling. Even for that reason,” He winked.  
“So we are different,”  
“Very. Although those two I believe,” Adam nodded his head to Girard and Tommy, “Are kindred spirits. I’ve seen the way both of them are apart. I’m scared to see what they do together,”  
“Imagine how they’ll be on stage!” Eli exclaimed. Girard had never been shy about flirting with Eli on stage and well, Adam and Tommy’s shenanigans were world famous. This could very well turn into an orgy onstage.  
“Well, why shouldn’t it?” Adam asked when Eli voiced his concerns, “Well, not an actual orgy obviously, but I’ve got some ideas for playing around…”  
“I thought you were spontaneous,” Eli teased him.  
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be prepared. Like what if…” Adam’s eyes and grin grew devious, “We had like a mass make-out?”  
“I’m not sure I follow…” Adam’s wolfish grin grew impossibly wider.  
“Like what if Tommy and I kiss, and Girard and you kiss and then WE come together and kiss?” He raised an eyebrow and bit a lip. Eli’s jaw fell open at the image, “I’ve been thinking of the set-list and I thought for our last song we could do a cover of Lady Gaga’s Boys, Boys, Boys. It would be perfect! Since we’re both out, proud and unafraid,” Adam sat back with his arms crossed, satisfied at his decision.  
“And it would be perfect timing for that orgy-kiss wouldn’t it?” Eli asked with a smirk.  
“Of course. Hey you know what?” Adam asked suddenly.  
“What...?” Eli asked concerned at Adam’s change in tone.  
“We should practice,”  
“Practice?” Eli asked. That didn’t mean…Oh Eli realized it did mean that as before he knew it, Adam’s lips were on his mouth.  
And a split second later, his tongue was inside of it.  
Eli usually liked controlling a kiss more, but he was willing to let Adam ravage his mouth for the time being. He let Adam’s tongue explore and caress every corner of his mouth and followed it back into Adam’s. Eli pushed the table out of the way so that he could lift himself up and straddle Adam’s waist and cup his face in his hands.  
When he and Adam finally disentangled, he saw Monte looking at the two of them and shaking his head with a fondness born of years of Adam’s antics. He also saw Maddog give him a huge double thumbs-up. But more than that, he saw that Girard and Tommy had disappeared.


	2. Would You Please Keep Whispering in My Ear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the lead singers are away, bandmates will play...

Tommy looked up from his spot on the unfolded futon to notice a pair of baby blue eyes fixated on him. He and Girard had gone up to Girard's hotel room so he could show off his impressive guitar collection. An impressive guitar collection that Tommy may have salivated on. Girard was just lucky Tommy hadn’t salivated on HIM.   
Girard Chanteau was legendary. He could rip the guitar gods a new one. Tommy wouldn’t lie and say that he hadn’t spent many a night watching clips of him playing wondering how the fuck he did it. He may also have watched quite a few interviews of Girard. Purely to discover guitar secrets of course. And to listen to him talk. Tommy had never thought about accents that much before, but after touring through Europe, he had developed a new appreciation for a well-accented tongue.   
Down at the bar, the two of them had no end of crap to talk about. Music, life, emotional lead singers…They got on well. Girard didn’t hold anything back and Tommy admired that. Once they had finished their instrumental gushing, both had ended up lounged on the futon.  
"Dude, why are you staring at me?" Tommy finally asked.  
"You have an intriguing face...I like it," Girard shrugged from where he lay next to Tommy, his head propped up on his hand.  
"Thanks? I guess,"   
"You look fake," he added.  
"Fake?" Tommy asked.  
"Not like you yourself are fake...But like your face is not real," Girard's face screwed up as he tried to find a way to explain, "Like a fantasy, or an art piece," He waved his hand, hoping to convey the idea.  
"You do know people say we have similar faces right?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.  
"Oh I know. I fucking love it," Girard scrunched up his nose and smirked as he placed a hand on the inside of Tommy’s pant leg.  
"Fucking narcissist. In love with your own face,"  
"Hell yeah and so are you...Look at you," he glanced down to the noticeably growing bulge in Tommy's pants. Oh, hello. When did THAT happen? "Try and ignore it, I dare you,"  
"I think that might be more the accent than the face..." Tommy admitted with a slight blush.  
"Oh, you like the French accent do you?" Girard's lips quirked up, "You want me to just start speaking French right in your ear like this?" He leaned in to whisper close, "Would that get you more...excited?"   
Tommy shuddered involuntarily. Yes, he liked the accent. The way "this" turned into 'zis and "that" turned into 'zat, the way Girard's throat caught and rolled on the R's...the low sultry way he spoke didn't hurt either.  
"Thought," Tommy sucked in a breath, "Thought you were straight,"   
"I never said that," Girard narrowed his eyes and grinned,” I'm more of the opinion that sexy is sexy no matter the sex," he laughed, "You, on the other hand, have specifically said you were straight," he should practically be stoking his chin for how devious he appeared, "So...is that a lie? Or am I just a lovely exception?"   
Tommy paused for a moment, trying to regain some power over the situation, but oh god, 'ZAT...  
"Thought about it before," he tried to sound snarky, but it just came out breathless as Girard began running his hand down Tommy's chest, tangling the other in his hair  
"Mm, I'll bet... Mr. Pop star make you think about it?" he whispered into Tommy's ear before gently letting his tongue caress it. Tommy SO wanted to lean in but he jerked away from the touch.  
"Before that actually," He growled, "Stop acting like you got all the control here!" Tommy tried to meet his eyes with a heated glare but Girard just chuckled softly.  
"Don't I?"  
"You cocky fucker,"  
Tommy quickly lurched up to press on top of Girard and grope him through his pants. He felt a surge of satisfaction as the French boy let out a high pitched moan. However Girard wouldn't let Tommy win this round. They might've both been slender, Girard especially so, but guitars build arm muscle and Girard was taller. He used that advantage to get Tommy flat on his back and held his arms locked above his head. He grinned down at Tommy and bit his lip, mischievous.   
"Do you know what I need from you Tommy Joe?" Tommy tried not to get distracted by the way Girard's voice trailed off on the "J" of his name and failed miserably. Girard leaned in even closer and laid his lips on his ear.  
"I need you to trust me," Tommy could hear the smile in his voice and found himself letting go. He didn't feel as much need to keep in control. He would let Girard do whatever he wanted to him with the way he was feeling now.   
"I trust you. Fuck, I trust you. Just...don't stop TALKING..." Tommy’s eyes rolled back.  
"Oh yeah, you love that, no? You want me to speak French? You'll have no clue what I'm saying but you'll still fucking love it,"  
"Yeah...SHIT..." Girard pressed his lips down onto Tommy's and their mouths opened for a messy tongue kiss, French kiss, heh. Girard then pulled away and moved his mouth back to Tommy's ear, let his tongue wander around the edge before speaking, sounding breathy and rushed  
"Tu le veux, non? Oui, tu le veux. Tu ME veux. Tu veux tout le moi. Oui, oui. Petit Tommy. Petit joli Tommy. Je sais que tu veux. Tu veux baiser, non? Oui, tu veux baiser. Tu es un petite salope n'es-tu pas? Je vais te donner ce que tu veux..." Tommy felt himself steadily lose his mind at the babbled words and murmured phrases in his ear. He sounded almost as crazed and wrecked as Tommy felt. It was true, Tommy had no fucking idea what he was saying, but it sounded dirty and he was so turned on, it HURT.   
"Keep going. Holy fuck, keep going!"  
Tommy clutched Girard even closer as he was pressed on top of him. He dragged his nails across Girard's shirt-covered back and wrapped one leg over his side. Girard pulled up a moment to look at Tommy's panting open mouth.  
"Tu es une salope. Une BELLE salope..." He rearranged himself so his leg was between both of Tommy's and Tommy could press his groin into his thigh. He moaned at the slight release. Girard sighed into the pressure as well before he yanked Tommy's head up by the hair to plant their lips together in a desperate kiss. Tommy felt Girard's tongue thrust into his mouth over and over again, tangling with his. God, stupid, sexual French tongue...Thankfully that tongue managed to swallow whatever embarrassing sound Tommy almost made. Girard apparently felt no such shame as he continually groaned and gasped into Tommy's mouth. Tommy did whine a little when he pulled away, taking that glorious dirty tongue with him.  
"Vêtements...Des vêtements trop putain!" Girard hissed as he began pulling up the back of Tommy's shirt.   
"Wait, what?" Tommy asked. He could practically see the split second it took for Girard's brain to click over to English.  
"Fucking clothes!" Tommy got the memo and began pushing up the back of Girard's shirt and pulling away from him so Girard could yank Tommy's over his head. Once both were shirtless, Girard pressed their chest together and gave Tommy a nice, leisurely kiss. Tommy eventually was the one to pull away.  
"You're SO fucking skinny..." it was rare that Tommy could say that. Girard growled low.  
"You're so fucking short," he retorted. Tommy narrowed his eyes   
"Yeah, but my boney ass isn't digging into your leg at the moment," unlike Girard's. Once again, rare for Tommy to be able to comment on ass size, but Girard's gave his a run for its money in terms of tiny-ness. Girard responded with an Elvis-style curling of the lip before licking all up Tommy's neck and along his jaw line, effectively distracting him. Especially once he began sucking a mark at the junction of his shoulder and neck and spread his legs around Tommy's.  
"O-ok, so..." Tommy began, trying not to sound breathless, "What are we gonna do here?"  
"Quoi?" Girard murmured into his skin.  
"What are we gonna do?" Tommy repeated, "Who's gonna do what?"  
"Hmm..." Once again, there was the switch to English, "You mean, who gets to be on top?" Girard smiled and raised an eyebrow. Tommy willed away his slight blush.  
"Yeah,"   
"Hm, we could do 69?" Tommy breath very audibly hitched at that, "Does that sound good to you?"   
"Fuck yeah," Tommy said with wide eyes. Girard bit his lower lip.  
"Good, because I have so been captivated by your mouth..." it really should NOT turn Tommy on the way he said "mouth" like "mouse". And that got him thinking about Girard's mouth...that tongue...He shivered and pulled Girard down to kiss him some more before going for his belt buckle, trying to rip those pants out of his way as Girard tried to do the same.   
However he froze as he heard a loud breath coming from the other side of room. Both Tommy and Girard looked up to see Eli and Adam standing in the open doorway. Adam turned to Eli and flailed an arm out towards the interlocked men.  
“See!? I told you they’d stop! And I really wanted to see them do 69!”


End file.
